


What I Like About You/Me

by ItalianMustache (KitsuneFurry)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bodyswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:49:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsuneFurry/pseuds/ItalianMustache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John switch bodies. Sherlock is unconcerned, John is…exasperated. (Brought over from fanfiction.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Switch

P.O.V: John

I walked to our apartment 221B and tried to open the lock with my arms full of groceries. After about five tries I finally managed to get the door open and step inside. After closing the door with my foot I set the groceries on the counter.

"Sherlock! Are you home?"

"In the living room John." came the reply. Sherlock was in his favorite armchair, fingers in that position that he puts them whenever we have a case. He looked up at me with his fascinating eyes and I gulped.

"We have another case?" I asked.

"Yes John I just received a case about a wife being murdered."

"Well then, shall we go old boy?" I questioned.

"No." he replied.

"'No?' Weren't you just complaining to me the other day that you wanted a case because you were bored?"

"Yes, but not a case this obvious. Obviously the husband killed her." Why anyone would want to kill their spouse was beyond me. It must have shown on my face because Sherlock heaved a sigh and prepared to explain.

"He was seeing another woman." I realized.

"Close but not a lit pipe John. He was seeing another man." he explained. I spluttered

"W-W-What? How can you tell?"

"Elementary John, when I met him he seemed upset but I quickly saw through this façade. He was unfazed by her death actually and I asked to look around the house. When I looked around the bedroom I found a bottle of hand lotion, yet when I saw his hands they were chapped. Also, the fact that he was limping helped limiting the options as well." I was shocked and amazed. Here was my sexually inept flat mate, the one who doesn't even notice that I'm in love with him, deducing a man he doesn't even know was cheating on his wife with another man. I felt cheated and angry. How can he see this is someone else but not in me?!

"John, why are you angry?" he asked.

"I'm not angry Sherlock." I replied.

"Your shoulders are hunched, your eye is faintly twitching, and your fingers are curling into your hand."

"Just drop it Sherlock!" I shouted. "I'm going to bed goodnight Sherlock." As soon as I said that I turned away and headed for bed, not trusting myself to look at Sherlock.

Later that night:

I woke up from a nightmare, that for some reason, I couldn't understand. That is when I saw the smoke, and the fact that I wasn't in my bed or my room. Hesitantly I called out. "Sherlock?" My voice was not how it usually sounded it sounded like…"Sherlock!" A voice sounded behind me

"John." he acknowledged. I strode over to him(me-whatever!) and grabbed him by the coat collar. I growled at him

"What happened?"

"John calm down. An experiment went wrong; I can fix it… soon."

"Sherlock this is probably the worst thing that has happened to us!" I exclaimed. "John I hardly perceive this as the worst thing that has happened to us." I jerked him back. "Sherlock I do not possess your intellect nor your ability to piece together information to deduce who did what!"

"Nor do I have your medical knowledge John. We'll just have to make do. Now may I suggest we take a shower to calm our nerves?" he replied. I sighed, exasperated.

"Sherlock we are in each other's bodies and you're suggesting that we take showers in these bodies."

"I can see this obviously blatant fact John; I'll let you go first." After he said that he turned around and walked away. I ran a hand over my (Sherlock's'?) face and through my (his?) hair. I muttered, "Bloody hell." This was going to be a pain.


	2. I Find Out a Bit About My Flatmate

After Sherlock left I admit I panicked for a few minutes. Resigning to my fate I entered the bathroom. After stripping my clothes (I am just going to refer to these changes as mine for simplicity) I decided to look in the mirror to see Sherlock's body. What I saw was a lean muscular (not super muscular though, probably from all those cases where we had to do manual labor) with a trail of hair going down to-

"Oh bloody hell." Sherlock had a well-sized cock.

"For an asexual git he's well endowed." Then, of course, came the mental images. Sherlock sitting in a chair, naked, and he lowering himself down…Sherlock towering above him tying his hands to the headboard…

"Stupid git! It's his bloody fault that this happened!" I turned and there stood my worst nightmare.

"John…" he said.

"Sherlock how much did you hear?" I asked suddenly afraid of the answer.

"The 'For an asexual git he's well endowed.' Part to the present." He replied.

"Sherlock it's not what it sounds like!" He barely blocked out the phrase that's what she said out of his mind. For a brief second I saw what looked like…disappointment...before his face went back to that neutral state of his.

"Sherlock what did I tell you about personal space?" I asked.

"This is not about me John it's about you, so don't try to change the subject." He replied blatantly.

"Change the what? Sherlock I didn't think I would ever say this to you, but you don't know what you're talking about!" I exclaimed. In response Sherlock, in a sudden movement, stepped in front of me so fast that it reminded me of a panther stalking its prey.

"John, I have seen the way you act around me this past month and I noticed that you act differently around me than with other people. Now I may not know much about relationships with other people, but I can recognize a change in a person. Now, are you going to tell me or not?" Sherlock asked.

"Why do you need to know Sherlock?! It's none of your business!" I yelled.

"John, you are my friend and I know I don't have many of those so I am just trying to not mess our relationship up." I admit I was touched by this statement and felt for him, I really did, but this was not the time for this. I heaved a sigh,

"Sherlock I am in no way shape or form different from how I was last month your just making up something to find a way to alleviate your boredom."

"John, I admit I might do something like this if I was extremely bored but I am 95% sure that there is something wrong with you." He stepped forward into my personal space. I felt my face flush at our closeness seeing as I could feel his breath.

"Now I am 100% sure that there is something off" He stated. 'Might as well get this over with' I thought.

"Okay Sherlock I admit it, your right I am acting differently because I…" I started.

"It's about time you admit you are attracted to me John." He interrupted.

"H-H-How the bloody hell did you know about-"

"Simple really, the increased heart rate, the flushed face, the absence of girlfriends, and the longing glances I have read about in those silly romantic novels you have on your bookcase." He deduced. I was speechless; he knew my feelings the whole time?

"Sherlock you complete and utter git, why didn't you say something bloody earlier when I was freaking out about these feelings?!" I screamed.

"John I know you're angry-"he started.

"Angry, Sherlock? No I'm not angry…I'm absolutely livid! This whole time you have been messing around with my emotions like I'm a doll for your entertainment and I am sick of it! I looked the other way when you make me do the shopping, do potentially fatal experiments, and confront serial killers on your own but this is the final straw Sherlock! I'm done." I vented and walked away.

"John!" I heard him calling my name and did not turn around until I walked out of the bathroom, into the living room, and opened the door, and ran into the one person I knew that could possibly stop me. Mycroft Holmes. He was there leaning on the door with that trademark umbrella clutched in his hand.

"Hello John, may I come in? Excellent." He responded and without a moment's hesitation, walked into the sitting room, and sat down in one of the armchairs. Moments later Sherlock walked in and looked at me, and then he turned and saw Mycroft.

"Mycroft, what are you doing here?" he seethed. Mycroft seemed unaffected by Sherlock's tone and continued as if Sherlock had not seemed to dislike his very presence.

"Ah, Sherlock, nice to see you and are dealing with your problems like responsible adults." He stated sarcastically.

"Mycroft, do you have to ruin every aspect of my life? Don't you have a government to run or politicians to blackmail?" Sherlock asked.

"I have a short few moments to spare before my next meeting. And what better than to spend it with my brother and his…interest." Mycroft stated.

"Mycroft, I swear…" Sherlock started.

"Ah brother-mine! Promising to harm the most likely only person who can possibly reverse your situation right now is generally not the right way to go." Mycroft smirked at the deadly glare Sherlock sent his way."Besides I have realized something very important about you and it could possibly leak out…" He trailed off.

Seeking to diffuse the situation I stepped in and said, "Mycroft may I ask why you are not confused about our identities and how you could have possibly devised a way to reverse this?"

"He's the British Government John. Of course he would be able to find a way to make an antidote." Sherlock stated looking bored already.

"Sherlock don't be ridiculous. I occupy a minor position you know this. Your making me sound like I am James Bond or someone as equally important as that. Next you'll be saying I have a sword hidden in my umbrella." Mycroft chastised. Sherlock muttered something that sounded like "Most likely" and I yelled, "Can we get back to the matter at hand instead of bickering like little kids? I would like to be in my body as soon as possible!"

Both Holmes looked at me with a semblance of shock on their faces before schooling them into masks. "Of course, my apologies ." Mycroft said apologetically. "Now as I was saying, an antidote has been made seeing as we analyzed the chemicals Sherlock used in his experiment. But unfortunately it will take awhile seeing as the antidote was made in a distant country; it will most likely be two to three days at the least. That is what I came to tell you gentlemen."

"So you're essentially saying that we'll be stuck in each other's bodies for about three days? Well if that doesn't bloody well take the cake I don't know what does." I stated. The rest of the conversation basically had Mycroft and Sherlock using scientific terminology to describe how the tests were being conducted. In all honesty, I barely understood a word of it. This was going to be a long three days.


	3. The End

**P.O.V: Sherlock**

After my infuriating brother's visit John wanted to try to learn my methods of deduction to improve our chance of passing as one another. Brushing off his attempts to talk with me I directed him to my website and flopped down onto the couch to ponder what had transpired earlier. After thinking for a few seconds I heard a sigh from John. He got up moving toward the kitchen and started opening cupboards for what I presume to start his tea making process.

From the kitchen's general direction John asked, "Do you want some tea Sherlock?" I vaguely recall responding to him in what John would call a scathing remark as I was trying to catalog John's reactions and forming hypotheses that would go in conjunction with said reactions. Startling out of my mind palace when John placed the tea on the table to the side of me, I lifted the cup and and drank a sip after verifying that John would not let me carry on with my thinking if I did not digest any fluids. After scrutinizing me John threw a package of crisps at my head.

"Really John? Throwing food are we? How childish," I drawled.

"Food and drink are scientifically proven to improve cognitive functions Sherlock. And judging from how you practically starve yourself often you can stand to eat more," John chided. Throwing down the chips to the other side of the couch, I stood up and started going through the first likely place John had hidden his gun.

"Sherlock what do you think you're doing?" John barked. I explained, "Statistically speaking the percentage of you hiding your gun here is 42% but I found that you would hide your gun in the most obvious place as possible, out of sight of course, in the hopes that I would be convinced it would be in a more concealed place."

"Fine Sherlock what would it take for you to stop searching for my gun?" John asked.

"A case for my bored mind would be preferable, but you explaining your actions that occurred earlier will suffice,” I reasoned.

Sputtering in denial at what I believe to be anything happening, John finally was able to articulate, “Nothing happened Sherlock! Admit that you were for once wrong with your deductions and face the truth.”

“I doubt that my deductions and hearing are off...ah! I see, you are trying to stall the conversation in the hopes that you can think of a sufficient enough lie that coincides with the events that I as privy to,” I said. Running his face over with his hands, John looked even more worn than a minute ago and that was enough to cause me to pause.

Looking at me from beneath his hands, John told me, “Okay Sherlock,” he sighed, “I’ll make this nice and simple seeing a this isn't your department, I like you.”

Without missing a beat I replied, “I enjoy your presence as well John.”

“No you idiot! I...love you!” John shouted. Staring in shock at John my brain did something unexpected, it stopped thinking for a short period. No thinking about the current mold experiment or the experiment on how fast the decomposition rate on arms i the water, just blank. All that I could focus on was John, who was currently moving towards the door looking like he did before I invited him on cases, I then realized that John was speaking as he walked.

“...if you don’t feel the same way I’ll just move out and...” John started. In a flash I was on my feet moving towards my John. MINE. I thought about all the times that John had been with me and made everything better. John shooting a serial killer, who comforted me when I was afraid when we encountered the hound at Baskerville, who was willing to sacrifice himself to allow me to get away from Moriarty, who forgave me when I revealed that I had faked my suicide, and the one who called me amazing all those times.

Pushing in between his now longer legs, I straddled his lap and uttered, “...I love you as well John.” Claiming each other in a bruising kiss with their eyes closed they affirmed that each other was all that they needed. And somewhere in a certain club, a member of the government smirked and planned to take the the antidote to them sometime tomorrow afternoon.


End file.
